I Crave You
by fatalxdesiresx
Summary: "There are times I desire you." After Lydia finds an erotic poem scribbled on a piece of paper left in her textbooks, she realizes she has a secret admirer. But who is it?
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE****:** _Okay, so I was discussing Lysaac with a friend (basically give us Lysaac or give us death and all that) and she suggested this _ingenious _idea for them and I started writing it right away. I've been wanting to work on a series for Isaac and Lydia and I thought Silvia's idea was absolutely perfect. And all credit to her for helping me find all the erotic poems I include in these chapters. Thanks a bunch, hun :D This series is for you & I really hope you like it :)_

* * *

She carelessly flipped her book open and that's when the sheet fell out and drifted to the floor, landing right by her four inch, red heels. Leaning over, Lydia reached down and gingerly picked up the notebook paper by the edges between her thumb and index finger, inspecting it with curiosity. Tilting her head to the side, she opened the folded sheet of paper and read the four lines scrawled on the paper. She studied the handwriting first, not recognizing it but recognizing it as clearly masculine.

"_There are times I desire you," _she read under her breath, her cheeks blushing. She looked around the classroom, her eyes meeting the eyes of other students, but there was no recognition in any of them, no sign that they knew what she was reading. She turned back to what she was reading. _"In a lovers arms. Sometimes I want you making fierce love, with moans like thought bubbles." _Well, now, that certainly did it. Now she felt herself becoming aroused and it wasn't even noon yet.

Lydia frantically shoved the piece of paper in her Chloe bag and placed it on the floor under her seat, out of view. She looked around the room again, picking up her pen and tapping it against the edge of her desk in agitation as she studied everyone. Her suspicion first fell upon Aiden. Could it be him? There were many reasons it could be him, but there were also many reasons it couldn't. First of all, they had broken up. After all these months, why now? Second, had he even ever read any erotic poetry? Dismissing the idea of it being him, she moved onto her next suspect: Stiles. Leaving erotic poems in a girl's textbook didn't exactly seem to be his method, so she quickly dismissed him as well. Scott? No. He'd never shown interest in her. He was too busy pining after Allison. There were some new kids that were a good possibility.

She felt someone staring at her rather intensely, but when she turned to look she found herself gazing at nothing. She shuddered, unease washing over her. Who had been gazing at her so intensely that she'd felt it and how had they disappeared so quickly? Lydia looked around the room again, slowly traveling her eyes over each face. She paused by the door and thought she saw someone she knew standing outside watching her, but then just as soon as she had seen him the figure had disappeared and she wasn't sure if what she'd seen had been real or just imagined.

Shaking her head, Lydia turned back to the front of the class and continued to go over in her mind who could be her secret poet. It could be any number of boys at the school. It could be _girls_, too. She was everyone's type. Boys and girls wanted to _be_ her and wanted to be _with_ her. But the writing had been masculine, so she could rule out the possibility of her secret admirer being a girl.

Lydia tried to focus on the class, but her mind remained on the piece of paper in her bag on the floor. It was like a magnet and her mind the piece of metal, the two being pulled together against their will. She had the poem memorized. _There are times I desire you in a lovers arms. _She recognized the poem from somewhere, remembered reading it years ago.

After class, Lydia leaned against her locker and surveyed the hallway of students, eyeing them all as her culprit. Allison came up beside her and said, _"Looking for fresh meat?" _

"_Sort of. I received this today," _Lydia added, handing over the poem she was holding onto. She looked over at Allison and watched as her best friend read it, smiling delightedly as Allison's eyes widened. _"What do you think?"_

"_I think someone's very desperately creative to get laid."_

Frowning, Lydia reached out and yanked the piece of paper out of Ali's hands and slipped it back in her jacket pocket and let out a little _hmph _at Allison's response. _"I'm trying to figure out who it is. I've crossed Aiden off the list. Romance was never his forte. He was more the type to, get in and out, if you know what I mean. The faster the better. And eroticism just doesn't scream Stiles to me. And Scott's too busy pining after you -"_

"_Lydia, he's not -" _Allison interrupted her, shaking her head and laughing softly as she put her books away. _"He's not pining after me."_

"_Whatever helps you sleep at night, darling," _Lydia replied. _"Anyway. If it's not Aiden, Stiles or Scott – it's certainly not Danny or Ethan. It's not-"_

"_Maybe it's Derek," _Allison interjected, unable to resist.

Lydia rolled her eyes and shot Allison an exasperated look. _"Really?" _she asked. _"I'd rather have flees." _She had warmed up to Derek and thought kinder of him than she used to – though she still did not think any kinder of his uncle Peter and likely never would – but the thought of Derek leaving her erotic poems and the idea of ever being with him in _that_ way repulsed her.

"_Ouch. So who do you think it is, then?"_

"_I don't know," _she said. _"And I _hate_ not knowing," _she added vehemently, slamming her locker shut and making Allison shut. _"It's one of many things I hate in this world."_

"_Chill, Lyd. Maybe this'll be fun," _Allison said, placing a placating hand on Lydia's arm as the fiery red-head leaned her back against the locker. _"I gotta get to class. I'll talk to you later." _And with that, Allison bid her goodbye with a smile and a squeeze on the arm, leaving Lydia leaning against her locker.

Watching her walk away, Lydia pulled out the poem and read it over again. _"In a lovers arms," _Lydia read aloud, now alone in the hallway. She sighed heavily and tipped her head back, leaning it against her locker. Maybe Allison was right. Maybe she should enjoy whatever her secret admirer was doing and savor the attention, look forward to receiving these little snippets of erotic poems in her textbooks – that is, if there were going to be more.

Leaning against the opposite side of the lockers, Isaac listened to the rhythm of Lydia's heartbeat. It beat faster and faster and he could smell her arousal, a smirk appearing on his face. The idea had occurred to him in the middle of the night when he'd been unable to fall asleep. He knew if he wanted to get Lydia's attention he'd have to do something out of the ordinary. A simple hello or flirtation wouldn't suffice. She wasn't just an ordinary girl. Not to him, at least. Even though they were in the same circle now – not here at school but at least when it came to other supernatural happenings – she still didn't notice him quite as much as he noticed her. And the first erotic poem seemed to have gotten her attention.

Isaac looked down at the piece of paper in his hand and read over the next verse for Lydia, deciding when and where he'd slip her the piece of paper. Lunch, perhaps? Or at the end of the day? He imagined her arriving home and finding the second piece of paper while unloading her books on her bed, sitting on the edge of her bed and reading it there.

Making up his mind, he listened for her heartbeat and when he heard it he walked off in the opposite direction. Lydia pushed herself away from her locker and turned the corner just as Isaac disappeared from view, making her way to the girls' restroom. She applied some lip gloss and a little blush and then made her way to study hall, where she spent most of her time reading the poem over and over again until she drove herself mad. She forced herself to finish what homework she'd been assigned so far so she could relax once she was at home.

The rest of the day passed without incident and to be honest, Lydia was slightly disappointed. She had been hoping to catch her secret poet in the act, find out who it is right away. Maybe she had romanticized everything, made it too big a deal. Perhaps the poem meant nothing and someone was just trying to mess with her. Now put out, Lydia sighed and aggressively stuffed her books in her locker. Realizing she'd left her English book in the classroom, she let out a whining sound and grabbed her Chloe bag from inside her locker, slammed it shut, and went off to retrieve her book.

Isaac slipped into the empty classroom and picked up Lydia's English book. Smiling, he opened it up to the middle and slipped the piece of paper with the second verse inside and then closed it again. He set the book back down on the desk and left the classroom before anyone, including Lydia, discovered him in there. As he exited the classroom and rounded the corner, Lydia strode into the classroom and over to her desk and reached out and grabbed her book. She slipped her copy of _The Scarlet Letter _into her bag and returned to her locker to grab a couple textbooks to take home with her.

On the drive home she stopped off at a coffee shop and got herself a drink, desperately needing a coffee. Since she had the place to herself, Lydia slipped her heels off and carried them with her upstairs. Placing them in her closet, Lydia set her coffee on her bedside table and then her bag on her bed and her books on the edge of her bed. Taking off her jacket, she shook it out and hung it up in its proper place. Cracking her neck from side to side, Lydia reached her hands behind her back and grasped them together, stretching her arms as she went over to sit on her bed.

Sighing heavily, she twisted around and reached over for her Chemistry book when she changed her mind and reached inside her Chloe bag for her Bronte book instead. Lydia crawled back on her bed and leaned against her headboard, crossing one leg over the other and opening her book where she'd last left off – Heathcliff's first reunion with Catherine, if she remembered correctly. She was flipping through the pages when she came across it, another piece of notebook paper. Freezing, Lydia licked her lips and pulled the piece of paper out from between the pages and set _Wuthering Heights_ down, completely forgetting about Cathy and Heathcliff's tragic love story when she had her own intriguing story going on here right now. Folding open the paper, she saw that this poem was longer than the first one and this excited her, becoming eager to read it. She cleared her throat and read aloud,

"_If only you knew_

_The wicked thoughts_

_That I am having of you,"_

Lydia's breath caught in her throat. She took a deep breath and then swallowed, looking around her room. Collecting herself, she looked back down at the verses scrolled on the piece of paper and continued reading.

"_Of limbs entangled_

_Yours and mine_

_Of lips locked in kisses_

_And bodies entwined_

_Of twisted sheets_

_Covered in sweat_

_Of moments so sweet_

_Unblemished by regrets_

_Of hours shared_

_In passion's embrace_."

There was more, but Lydia was unable to go on and blew out a breath, letting her hand fall on the bed beside her thigh, the piece of paper with the verses resting lightly in her hand. She rubbed her lips together, closing her eyes and trying to get her hormones under control. Now was not the time to be aroused. Closing her hand around the poem, Lydia lifted her arm and brought hand up to her face and opened her hand, holding the paper before her. _"Whoever you are," _she said, reading the poem silently in her head. _"I'll find you."_


	2. Chapter 2

Isaac roamed the empty hallway after the last class of the day, glancing in each room looking for Lydia. It wasn't like her to skip their last couple of classes, so he had grown worried about her and had offered to bring her her homework. Scott had given him an enigmatic look, but Isaac had simply shrugged it off and acted like his offer had meant nothing and he was just doing it to be a good friend. Well, he did want to be a good friend to Lydia, but he also thought it'd be a good opportunity to spend a few brief moments with her - if she wasn't already with somebody else, that is.

His last stop was the library and that was where he found her, hunched at the table over a sketch pad. Smiling, Isaac approaching her and hovered behind Lydia, studying her drawing. He hadn't known she could draw and was rather surprised at how good she was. He began to wonder just how much she kept hidden from other people and why.

Lydia lifted her gaze but kept drawing, sensing a presence behind her. She figured sooner or later someone would find her since skipping classes wasn't like her. This privacy, which had been so nice, would only last so long. _"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to tell me what is is you want?" _ Lydia asked sharply, tilting her head to the side as she shaded in a corner of the tree she was drawing.

A slight smirk graced Isaac's features and then he took a seat beside Lydia at the table. She looked over at him, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise when she saw it was him. _"I brought your homework," _he explained, setting the papers down in front of her.

"_Thank you," _she said airily, taking the papers from him and slipping them into her purse. She resumed her drawing, conscious of Isaac watching her out of the corner of her eye. With pencil in her hand, she hesitated over the drawing and then set her hand down again and looked up at Isaac once more. _"Is there something else I can help you with?" _

"_You're good," _Isaac replied, ignoring the attitude she gave him with an amused smile on his face. _"I didn't know you could draw. Have you ever tried drawing people?" _he asked, looking back down at her drawing and reaching out his hand, his fingertips touching the edge of her sketch pad. The side of his hand brushed against hers.

"_Thank you," _she said again, but this time there was a hint of surprise in her tone. She took the moment to study Isaac as he gazed at her drawing, taking in his features and finding him handsome. She wasn't sure why she hadn't noticed him before. Not the way she had noticed other boys. He was certainly good looking and he was currently giving her that sensation of butterflies in her stomach. She held his gaze, admiring his electric blue eyes. She dropped her own eyes down to his lips when Isaac reached his hand out and touched his fingertips to the edge of her sketch pad. Feeling his skin brush against hers sent a tingling sensation up along her arm and she dropped her gaze down to his hand and moved her own hand back, looking up at him once more. _"No, people are too complicated," _she answered, frowning slightly when she saw a hint of disappointment cloud his features. _"And there's a lot you don't know about me." _She gazed at him for a moment longer and then quickly looked away, picking her pencil back up and resuming her drawing.

"_I'll bet there is," _he said, a broad smile on his face and a glint of mischief in his eyes. Lydia paused in her drawing and slowly looked up and over at him, his tone of voice catching her off guard. The way she looked at him made Isaac blush and look away for a moment. _"There's always three lives," _he said. _"At least, that's what I think. Public, private, and secret. This right here is your secret life. The part of your life you don't want anyone knowing because you're afraid of being judged, maybe? I'm not really sure. I know you're not most girls. You put on this facade, but deep down inside there are many, many layers of Lydia Martin that many of us have yet to reveal." _

Lydia scoffed at first, the idea of Isaac Lahey telling her all this so unbelievable. But as he went on, her breath caught in her throat and she felt the backs of her eyes sting. Swallowing hard, she had to look down and run her tongue along her lips, focus anywhere but his eyes, which were focused intently on her. He was right, though. She'd put on a pretense for years and had only recently begun to dispense with everything, not caring with what people thought about her. Taking a deep breath once she realized he was finished talking, Lydia forced that facade Isaac had been talking about and looked him in the eyes, a sweet and flirtatious smile on her face. _"Wouldn't you like to know?" _she asked, leaning in close to him as she picked up her sketch pad and pencil with one hand and stood up.

"_I would," _Isaac replied, smiling at her. He dropped his gaze to her lips as she stood up but remained where he was and didn't make a move, which surprised Lydia. Most guys would've just gone for a kiss without really thinking about it.

Turning around, Lydia closed her sketch pad and slipped her pencils back into their proper places in the cases. Isaac's eyes flicked to her Chloe bag, sitting tempting on it's own right beside him on the table. Sucking on the inside of his cheek, he reached into his pocket, lifted the flap of her purse and dropped the sheet of paper into her bag.

Lydia swirled around just as Isaac leaned back against his chair, smiling at her innocently. She eyed him suspiciously and then reached out for her bag. _"Hmph," _she said, side-eyeing him as she slung her Chloe bag over her shoulder. _"It was nice talking to you, Isaac," _she said, and was genuine this time. She let out a sigh and a smile, the latter soft and with closed lips.

"_It was nice talking to you, too," _he said, even if he'd done most of the talking.

Lydia was almost out the door when she stopped walking and turned around, looking back at Isaac sitting alone at the table. It made her sad how lonely he looked and she realized that must be how she looked to others sometimes – sitting there on her own, reading or drawing. Pulling herself up, she walked back over to him and asked, _"Do you need a ride?"_

Looking up at Lydia when she came back over, he was taken aback by her question and hesitated. _"Uh, no, I don't. Thanks, though. I've been staying with Scott. Kind of," _ he added, sheepishly.

"_Kind of?" _Lydia asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

Isaac hesitated for a moment, looking up at her. Finally, he sighed and tilted his head to one side. _  
"Okay, look, don't tell him or Mrs. McCall? I stay at Derek's loft now and then. I like being on my own sometimes. The seclusion it's -"_

"_Invigorating. It teaches you how not to be defined by others," _she added, staring off into the distance and zoning out for a few brief moments. In those few brief moments, Isaac studied her with a smile on his face. When she snapped out of her reverie and met his gaze, she burst out laughing and ran a hand through her hair. _"Well, if you don't need a ride, I guess I'll go. I'll see you tomorrow."_

Lydia flashed Isaac a smile and then left, Isaac watching her walk away until she rounded the corner and was out of sight. He remained sitting where he was, his hand resting on the table. Rubbing his lips together, Isaac turned to look at his hands as he flexed his fingers and then he finally got up after a few minutes. He grabbed what books he needed and slipped them in his bag and after some hesitation, decided to go to Derek's loft, spend some time on his own.

Outside, Lydia dug around in her bag for her keys. Hissing when she felt something cut her finger, she withdrew her hand and sucked on her index finger and peered inside her bag for the menace when she saw what it was. Eyes widening, she reached inside and pulled out the slip of paper. Setting her Chloe bag on the hood of her car and read the hand-written verses on the notebook paper,

"_I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.__  
__Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. __  
__Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day __  
__I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. ___

_I hunger for your sleek laugh, __  
__your hands the color of a savage harvest, __  
__hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, __  
__I want to eat your skin like a whole almond._

_I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,  
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,  
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,_

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,  
hunting for you, for your hot heart." 

Inhaling sharply, Lydia looked up and took off running but then cursed when she realized she forgot her back. She turned back around and ran back to her car, grabbing her bag and then taking off again for the school. She ran as quickly as she could in her heels, up the steps, down the hallway and to the library.

"_Isaac -" _she began, but when she saw he was gone and the library was empty, she stood there with her arm hanging limply by her side. The piece of paper slowly fell to the floor as she looked around, her lips pursing together as a sadness filled her. She'd left her bag on its own for a few minutes earlier in the day, so any number of people could have come and gone, slipped the poem in her bag. She'd wanted to ask Isaac if he recognized the poem or at least the hand-writing from class, but since he was gone...

Looking down, Lydia bent over and picked up the piece of paper, looking it over again. A smile lit up her features and she bit down on her bottom lip, glancing up. She slipped the piece of paper into the pocket above her heart and turned on her heel, walking quickly out of the library and back out to her car. Should she put Isaac on her list of suspects or not?

Throughout the night and even into lunch the next day at school, Lydia attempted to draw Isaac. She did the best she could to conjure an image of him from her memory, but that had frustratingly failed and about fifty crumpled sheets later she had given up. She liked a challenge and ever since seeing that hint of disappointment in his gaze, she felt like taking on a challenge and seeing if she really could prove herself wrong and draw a person. She was Lydia Martin. She didn't give up easily. And what a better subject than the person who gave her the idea? Also, this way she could have an excuse to admire him for an incalculable amount of time.

Lydia tilted her head to the side, running her tongue along her bottom lip as she studied Isaac's facial structure, trying to get the angle of his jawline and cheek correct. Drawing him was more frustrating than she had anticipated. She'd never seen features like his that were so... symmetrical. Every angle was perfect and no matter what she did she couldn't quite draw exactly that way.

Sighing, she looked down at her sketch again and erased a small part of his jawline, attempting to revise it. She worked on it for several minutes, forgetting about Scott and Isaac sitting several feet away from her and that she was even on her own. Lydia Martin, on her own. It was an odd thing, but she didn't mind it. She liked the peace and quiet. When Lydia finally looked up to study Isaac again, she straightened in her seat and looked around in alarm, not seeing Isaac.

"_What's this?" _a voice said from her left, making Lydia jump. Isaac took a seat beside her and reached out for the sketch pad, his curiosity ignited.

"_Nothing," _Lydia snapped, slamming her sketch pad shut and smacking Isaac's hand in the process. He jerked his hand back with a wince and frowned at her. _"Sorry," _Lydia mumbled, glancing at his hand, doubting it hurt at all, however. _"This isn't something I'm ready for anyone to see yet," _ she told him.

"_Understood," _Isaac replied, smiling to let her know it was their little secret. _"I hope whatever it is you'll share it with me soon," _he added, pushing his chair back and standing up to go join Scott again.

_"Mmm," _Lydia murmured, pursing her lips together and thinking over his request. She finally smiled and looked up at him. _"You'll be the first, Lahey."_

"_Good. See you later, Martin," _he said, winking at her.

Lydia leaned to the side and watched him walk away, admiring his backside. She rubbed her lips together and shook herself out of her daydream and slipped her sketch pad into her bag and left the cafeteria, deciding to get to class early. She stopped by her locker to retrieve her book, and when she opened her locker door a piece of paper fell out and floated to the ground.

Eyes widening, Lydia quickly bent over to pick it up before anyone saw it, pressing it against her stomach against her palm. She hurried to the bathroom and made sure it was empty before locking herself in a stall, setting her bags on the ground, and opening the piece of paper, the familiar yet unfamiliar hand-writing looming before her. She read aloud, her voice low,

"_I'll give you my heart to make a place  
for it to happen, evidence of a love that transcends hunger.  
Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars  
for you? That I would take you there? The splash  
of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube? Moonlight making crosses  
on your body, and me putting my mouth on every one."_

She swallowed hard, her throat dry and hoarse from reading the poem several times over. Lowering her arms, she rested her hands on top of her thighs, gingerly holding the piece of paper between her fingertips as she got lost in imagining whoever this was – got lost in imagining him running his tongue along every curve of her body, along her neck. Making her, like it described in the poem, melt like a sugar cube.

Snapping out of her ridiculous erotic fantasy when she felt her heart pounding against her chest, Lydia took a deep breath and forced herself to control her arousal. She stood up, only to have to reach her hand out and lean against the stall for a second, the backs of her knees warm and weak from her previous thoughts. Bringing herself up, she opened the stall and went over to the sink, turning on the faucet and splashing her face with cool water.

"_Control yourself, Lydia," _she said to her reflection in the mirror. She studied herself, her cheeks and neck and chest flushed a light red. _"It's going to take a lot more than this to get you to lift your skirt."_


End file.
